


I'll Be Good

by CommanderFiction



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 3 Years, Angst, Anxiety, Arguing, Blood, Bones has a potty mouth, Bones loves his Mama, Bones needs a hug, Caring Bones, Chinese Food, Crying, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Evil Girlfriends, Fights, Finnegan is a bully, Fluff, Gailia is hot, Gary Mitchell is in here, Gay Rumors, Gen, Golden Gate Bridge, Grumpy Bones, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jim Fails, Jim is a happy drunk, Jim needs a hug, Jim picks fights, Jim's Struggling, Kobayashi Maru, Mean Professors, Medbay, More tags later, Nightmares, POV Alternating, POV Bones, POV Jim, Panic Attacks, Pavel is just a kid, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Psychological Torture, San Francisco, Southern Cooking, Spock might be referenced, Starfleet Academy, Strippers?, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tarsus IV, Tension, Therapy, Tribbles, Unattainable Nyota, Whining, bad relationships, bad words, jim is a jerk, lots of hugs, lots of tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-26 11:17:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13234551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderFiction/pseuds/CommanderFiction
Summary: Joining Starfleet was only the first step to redeeming himself, he has a long road ahead of him.They head down the stairs and out the doors of the building, making a three minute walk over to the library, only further away from Roddenberry dorms. The campus remains bustling with life and color, the trees still green with summer, though soon they’ll be peeling away into fiery reds and blazing oranges of autumn.“You should join me for lunch in the cafeteria later.”Jim grins, “When I had a first date in mind, I wasn’t picturing the cafeteria.”McCoy smacks him on the arm, “Yeah and I didn’t think I’d be seeing you around again, but I guess we both don’t get what we want.”“That’s child abuse.” Jim whines playfully and the southerner grips his sleeve to pull him away from incoming traffic, “Is not! How old are you?”“Younger than you.”“That’s debatable.”Unfortunately he just so happens to become best friends with the grumpiest person on this end of the galaxy.





	1. Starting Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim starts his new life at Starfleet Academy, yet trouble always finds him.

The constant throb in his skull doesn’t go away that night, nor does it the next morning when his alarm goes off at eight-thirty. The noise is like nuke sirens in his ears as he struggles to become coherent. As the blond pushes against the mattress of his bed, the covers slip from his body, revealing the fact that he’s still fully dressed. Actually, he’s still wearing the clothes that the one bastard puked on.

With a groan he slams a clumsy hand over the alarm clock, knocking it from the side table, not stopping the incessant noise. He growls this time as he gets up and presses the off button on the damn clock.

Then, as quickly as he had gotten up, he collapses back down, not finding the energy within himself to get up for the day. But, he can’t stay here forever; Captain Pike would have his ass on a silver platter if he didn’t get up. Plus, that’d mean he failed on Pike’s dare; to do better than his father. Childish the reason may be, but it got him here didn’t it?  
Today is signups. Not very exciting, but that’s alright, it’ll give him a day to get used to his new surroundings. This certainly isn’t Riverside, Iowa anymore. 

Captain Pike himself, instead of a counselor, will be arranging his classes. Though that slightly unnerves the blond. He doesn’t need to be treated any different than the other kids, that just means more attention and more enemies for him, because no one on this earth wants to be Jim Kirk’s friend, especially when he has the tendency to leave a trail of chaos wherever he goes.

Jim sighs and finally gets up, changing into the crimson red uniform that the school provides them with and quickly washing his face, for it still has bloodstains drizzling from his nostrils.

With new energy, the boisterous blond strolls rather casually from his temporary quarters and heads out the building. The dorm he’s staying in is for transfers, people who’ve just arrived and have not gotten their classes scheduled and a roommate assigned.

As the blond walks out, he’s grateful for the gentle summer breeze and he enjoys the scenic views, for the campus itself is rather old fashioned. Some buildings even use the classic style of brick and modern glass windows, which he’s rather appreciative of; the theme adds character to the place.  
The cement path leads him only deeper into the campus; he’s welcomed by long shadows cast by the tall trees and lush bushes. Jim comes to stop right outside the counselor building; in there Pike said he’d meet him. 

Slapping on an arrogant grin, Jim walks inside, though much to his disappointment, there’s not very many people there, and definitely no hot girls to hit on. Jim fixes his frown and walks up to the desk, winking rather casually to brunette headed girl, though he’d rank her a four.

“What’s the name?” The uniformed man asks, pulling up a transfer list on his computer.

The blond blushes slightly and casts his gaze down, one hand going up to itch behind his neck, “Uhh, it’s James Kirk.”

But, to his relief, the man doesn’t make a comment on the name, either he doesn’t care, or he doesn’t know, either way the blond is just glad.  
“Alright, Captain Pike will be ready for you in a bit. But here, let me get your picture.”

“Oh okay.” Jim replies and watches as the man steps out from behind the desk, “Okay, stand here for me.” The man instructs and the blond obliges and gives a lopsided grin as his picture is taken rather quickly, “Alright, go ahead and sit down cadet, Captain Pike will be ready shortly.”

Jim nods his thanks and as he turns to go sit down, a certain bastard notices the glint of his golden hair and recognizes him from across the room, “Kirk?” The blond noticeably jumps and swivels around to face the man who said his name, but he’s not surprised when he sees it’s that bones guy. Something about a wife taking the whole planet in the divorce. Yeah, that guy.

“Bones, right?” Jim alleges as he takes a seat beside the southern man.

Though the brunette huffs and scowls at him, “The name’s Leonard.” Jim just smiles and laughs lightly, “Ahh, close enough.”

“Hardly.” McCoy grumbles and continues to smooth out his uniform, he as well wearing the red, “You owe me.” Jim comments after a moment of silence. McCoy gives him an incredulous look, “For what?” The blond shakes his head disgustedly, “You threw up on me!”

Now it’s the southern man’s turn to laugh, “I warned you. Plus, you drank down my whole damn flask you asshole.”

“Oh hardly, it tasted like shit anyways.” Jim retaliates, not meeting the man’s eyes as they shoot daggers at his skull, “Ungrateful bastard.” McCoy mutters under his breath, causing the blond to sigh dramatically, “Here, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take us to a real bar where you can buy us the good stuff.”

McCoy’s eyes narrow at him and suddenly he feels exposed and slightly guilty for somehow agitating the southerner beside him, “Look kid, I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but there’s no way in hell I’m buying you a drink.”

“James Kirk, the Captain is ready to see you.” The man at the counter calls.

Jim draws a breath and rises from his seat, “I’ll see you later tonight Bones. You owe me that drink.” The blond replies as he strolls down the hall.

“I’m not buying you a drink! And the name’s Leonard!” McCoy shouts after him, but before the blond can make any other remarks he’s being led away to the opposite side of the building.

Jim’s led through maze of halls before coming to a stop outside of Pike’s office, and he watches as the fogged glass slides back mechanically to reveal the Captain perched at his desk. The blond puts on his best smile and graciously walks in and takes a seat at the chair Pike gestures at him.

“I’ll be honest; I’m surprised that you showed up on time.” Pike admits, taking a moment to lean back into his chair and rock it slightly. Jim chuckles, “I thought the same thing.”  
The captain only offers him a smile before continuing, “So, you said you wanted to do this in three years, right?”

Jim nods.  
“Good, because I packed your schedule.”

The blond splutters, “You already made my schedule?”

Pike nods his head, placing his hands on the surface of the desk before him, “Well, I brought you here didn’t I? Plus, there are a few gaps that need filling. Just hear what I have first and then we can tweak it.”

“Alright.”

Pike hums as he pulls out the files, taking a quick glance over them, “Okay, for first semester…on Mondays you have hand to hand combat at five am, Tuesday you have Starfleet History at eight, Wednesday I put you in Interspecies Ethics at eight and Prime Directive at eleven-and yes before you ask they’re both required classes. On Thursday you’ll have Exobiology at nine, and then on Fridays I signed you up for Xenolinguistics at two, thought you’d enjoy it. So, anything else you want to add?”

Jim sighs, tapping a finger to his chin as he thinks, “I want hand to hand combat training on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.” He decides firmly and Pike huffs, “You sure Jim? That’s at five am?” 

The blond smiles, “Yeah, I’m sure. And on Monday is there any classes open?”

Pike rolls his eyes, “Of course, there’s plenty. What’d you thinking about?”

“I don’t know, some science perhaps?” Jim suggests with a shrug and Pike nods, “Okay, they have Astrophysics at eight? That’ll be after you hand to hand.”

“That’ll do, and on Tuesdays, do they have a class on engines or some type of engineering I can take?” Jim asks and the Captain pauses to take a quick look, “Yes, on Tuesdays they have Basic Warp Design at two. I heard the professor’s mean though.”

“Its fine, I’ll take that class.” He replies with a nod, “Oh you might like this. They have a Forensic Psychology class on Thursdays, interested?” Pike offers, gazing up from his screen and to the bright blue eyes looking back.

“Uhh, yeah, what time on Thursday?”

Pike makes a quick double check, “It’s at eleven.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Alright, this is what I have for you now. Mondays, hand to hand and Astrophysics. Tuesdays, Starfleet History and Basic Warp Design. Wednesdays hand to hand, Interspecies Ethics, and Prime Directive. Thursdays Exobiology and Forensic Psychology. And Fridays hand to hand and Xenolinguistics. Then second semester on Wednesdays I’ll switch Interspecies Ethics with Protocol and Prime Directive with the Extension Course, because they’re all semester classes. Sound all good to you? And don’t worry about not liking one of your classes, you can switch only within the first week, but you cannot switch out of required classes.” Pike informs him, and the whole time he hums and nods his head in agreement.

“Okay, so we’re done here?” Jim questions, almost ready to leave now, but Pike shakes his head, “No, now I have to assign you a roommate and give you one of these.” The Captain responds and pulls out a Starfleet issued PADD from his desk, “Here, this will have your class schedule in place. And let me get your room number and ID card…”

Jim just waits patiently, tapping his foot against the ground; he never was good at holding still. “Ahh, here you go…” Pike begins as he hands the blond Cadet his ID card, “You’re at the freshmen dorms, Roddenberry. South of here. You’ll be in room two hundred twenty-seven a, that’ll be on the second floor. Your roommate is Francis Donavan; he’s about your age, only three years older.” Captain Pike tells him, not staring up from his screen until he’s finished.

“Alright, now you’re free to go and don’t forget to take the PADD and double check your schedule.” Pike continues and watches as the blond grabs the PADD, nods his thanks and dashes out the door, showing himself out.

When Jim enters the waiting room, the bones guy isn’t there, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. He can almost feel a rock drop into his stomach; he doesn’t know why he’s thwarted, just something about the man makes his mood lighten. Maybe it’s the man’s southern charm, who knows?

The blond exits the building, PADD clutched tightly to his hip as he heads back to his original dorm; he has to grab his clothes before he goes to his new room. It only takes him a few minutes of walking and looking slightly confused to make it back to gather his clothes, his only belongings, and head back outside into the refreshing air.

It’s a Sunday, Sunday the 19th, of August, so he’s not surprised when he sees that not many people are out enjoying the summer air. Most students are taking leisure time before school starts. It starts tomorrow. Jim sighs and finds the freshmen dorms, labeled Roddenberry. He only surveys the old architecture briefly before allowing himself inside, taking to the elevator and pressing the button to the second floor.

“Two twenty-seven a.” He murmurs to himself as he searches for it, almost spinning around until he catches the number. It’s to the left of the elevator; he’ll have to remember that.

Pulling out his ID card, he takes a swipe at the scanner and the door complies with the command and chirps open. Satisfied, Jim enters and shuts the door behind himself, welcoming the vacant room. The air is stale and smells quite off. Empty the dorm room may be, but the full trashcan and discarded clothes over the couch says otherwise.  
He huffs and scans the room. There’s to two doors to the right, both being bedrooms, then there’s a small living area with a TV and couch and a bathroom. That’s it, unless one counts the giant window bathing in the rich sunlight.

Jim steps further into the room almost cautiously and pokes his head into the bedrooms, the one furthest from the door is occupied with more clothes and school supplies littered about the bed and desk. He just nods and goes into the other room; Francis Donovan must’ve beat him here. Setting the clothes, PADD and ID card on the drawer, the blue eyes only have to take a quick glance around to realize how tight it is. One bed in the corner, opposite is a black desk and by the door is the drawer, the walls are white and the floor is a tan carpet. Jim merely smirks to himself and jumps into the bed, feeling the rough red sheets against his skin.

Only staying for a few minutes, the blond gets bored and skips into the living room. Jumping onto the couch with a smile, he switches the TV on and flips through the channels, but there’s nothing worth watching. There’s not even anything on the sports channel. With a growl he gets up and makes for the door not bothering to lock it behind himself, there’s got to be something to do on a Sunday morning and boy is he wrong.

He walks around aimlessly for two hours, but he does have to admit the campus is nice. There are nature trails, gardens, ponds, benches, lush grasses and towering trees, it’s quite relaxing actually. So in the end, his pointless walk isn’t too pointless.

When he returns to his room, 227a, a certain someone is home.

“Who are you?” A tall brooding man implores, towering over the blond by a couple of inches with biceps bigger than his head. Jim swallows, “I’m Jim Kirk, so I’m guessing you’re Francis then?”

Francis nods, fixating his brown eyes at his new roommate, “When’d you get assigned here?”

Jim hums lightly, “Just a couple of hours ago.”

The man then nods and runs a hand through his black hair, “Well then, make yourself at home.”

“Will do.” Jim replies and scurries off and into his room, closing the door.

He stretches a yawn and sprawls out across the bed. Despite the fact it’s barely noon, Jim finds himself falling asleep, though in his defense, he has been nursing quite a headache.

When the blond awakens from his dreamless sleep, it’s almost six in the afternoon, “Shit.” He breathes and gets off his bed with a loud moan. Jim strolls out casually and finds his roommate on the couch, munching on a slice of pizza. It’s then that the blond notices his stomach rumbling in hunger. Almost nervously, Jim creeps over and makes room for himself on the couch beside Francis, taking a quick glance at the TV to see an old sitcom playing, one of which he doesn’t recognize.

“Hey Francis.” He greets gruffly, finding that his voice is barely audible after his six-hour nap. His roommate sighs and doesn’t even offer him a glance, let alone a slice of pizza. Jim tries not to take it personally, only occasionally sending a look over at the pizza, smelling the aroma of baked cheese and spicy pepperoni. Dear lord his mouth his beginning to water.

“Plan on sharing?” Jim asks with a bit of a laugh, but Francis just growls, “Nope.”

Damn, he isn’t going to enjoy staying with this man is he?

“Okay, that’s fine with me.” The blond replies and gets off the couch and makes his way to the door with one thing on mind. Food.

Jim leaves the Roddenberry dorms behind and exits the campus entirely, which is located in the former city Fort Baker, California, right across the Golden Gate Bridge (which still stands) from San Francisco. Apart from the large Starfleet campus, housing eight-hundred students and nearly a hundred professors, is a decent sized city. The city, appropriately named Abrams Town, gains most of its revenue from the Starfleet trainees.

Now Jim is one of those trainees and he’d hate to say, but he’s pretty sure he looks awful in this bright red uniform, which is now far too hot to walk around in without the aid of the trees sheltering him from the heat. But his determination to get food is too strong, so he continues forward until he comes to what seems to be a family owned burger place called Burger Connection.

The door dings as he pushes it open and allows the air-conditioned restaurant to cool him down.

A pretty blond lady, with a name tag which reads ‘Katie’ greets him from behind the desk, “Is there anything I can get you sir?”  
Jim spins around on his heels to faces her, summoning up one of his charming smiles, “Uhh, do you guys sell cheeseburgers by any chance?”  
The lady nods her head, “Did you read the title of the restaurant before you came in?” The blond sighs, “Apparently not. So is that a yes or a no?” He inquires, leaning against the counter with his forearms flat against the surface.

“One cheeseburger coming up. That’ll be three dollars fifty-four cents.” Katie tells him and he hands her his card, “That’ll do.” She mutters as she swipes it and makes the appropriate charge, “Okay your order number is two hundred and three.” The lady continues, handing him back his card and giving him the printed receipt.

“Thank you.” Jim replies, taking the items and seating himself on the cushioned bench off to the side of the room.

The sounds of sizzling food echoes from the kitchen, and the aroma is enough to make his stomach growl in hunger. Six-hour nap be damned, he’ll have to make sure he doesn’t do that again, he isn’t going to be skipping another meal if he’s going to be this hungry.

Only a few minutes pass by when his number is called and rises from his seat and walks over to the counter, “Thanks.” Jim tells her and takes the food, heading for the door.  
Once outside, he embraces the warmth of the heated air, but it makes his clothes stick to his skin. Jim sighs, taking a bite of his burger and mentally reminding himself that he’ll have to come back some day and get another one. His trip back is peaceful and no trouble comes his way, well, until he makes it back to his dorm room.

He reaches his door, remembering it’s to the left of the elevator and sticks his hand into his pocket, looking for an ID card that appears to be vacant. Frowning, Jim searches through each spot the card could possibly be. Then it dawns on him, he left the damn card on his drawer.

“Ugh.” He grumbles and begins to pound on the door, “Francis! Open up please.” Jim calls out between bites of his cheeseburger.

There’s commotion from inside until finally the door unlocks and swings ajar, only it’s not Francis welcoming him.

“Uhh…” Jim trails off, desperately double checking the room number, it’s correct.

“Hey Francis, is this the little blonde you were talking about?” The man with ragged brown hair inquires, glancing over his shoulder. Then Francis appears from behind, “Yeah, that’s my roommate, Jim Kirk.”

The newcomer huffs, “Like George Kirk?”

Jim noticeably gulps, “Yeah.”

“Well, I’m Jake Finnegan.” Finnegan smiles grimly and allows Jim to enter, “Looks like you guys have been partying.” Jim comments, taking in the appearance of his dorm room, somehow, it’s gotten messier.

“Yeah, and I’m awfully hungry. Nice cheeseburger you got there Jimmy.” Finnegan peers over him, taking a glance at the food in his hand, “It’s pretty tasty.” Jim replies with the nod of his head.

“C’mon Finnegan, leave him alone. I’m not cleaning up after you again.” Francis complains and Jim takes a glance over at the dread written across his roommate’s face, “Back off Finnegan.” He growls when the stranger makes a grab for his food, “What’s wrong with you?”

“He’s drunk.” Francis states plainly, crossing his arms as he sees the nearing fight about to happen.

“C’mon Jimmy, just one bite.” Finnegan whines, and when Jim doesn’t comply, he grabs the blond by his hair brings a knee to his gut.

Jim gags and feels the burger ripped from his clenched grasp, “Mmm, this is some good stuff.” Finnegan announces, munching on the last of his burger, “Asshole.” Jim mutters and takes a swing at Finnegan’s head.

The moment his fist makes contact with the man’s face, he tumbles over, obviously drunk, “If you guys are gonna fight, don’t do it in here.” Francis tells them.  
Wiping the blood from his lip, Finnegan nods, “Alright, c’mon Jimmy lets settle this outside.”

Normally this is where Jim finishes him off, or merely sends him on his way, but the way Finnegan says his name with such disdain demoralizes him. His pride is too strong to back down, so he simply nods and follows Finnegan out, with Francis straggling behind them.

By the time they get outside, Finnegan has already eaten the rest of Jim’s food and is now licking his fingers clean. Jim just moans and shakes his head, “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

The brunette chuckles, dropping his red jacket and Jim does the same. Both raise their fists to fight and Francis can only sit back and shake his head in disgust.  
Finnegan is the first to make a move, lunging forward and throwing a fist at the pretty blond’s head, but being drunk makes his movements sluggish and Jim easily sidesteps him and laughs. The blond then ducks when the enraged Finnegan tries to land another blow, but unfortunately Jim doesn’t see the next one coming.

Jim has always been good on his feet and being able to coordinate both his hands and feet to work to his advantage has always been his specialty, but he’s never good when pinned to the ground. And what makes it worse is the fact, which he’ll soon find out, that Finnegan is a former wrestler.

So if one is to know that, it shouldn’t be surprising when Jim finds himself, smashed to the floor, blood drooling from his mouth and with a larger body pinning him down. Finnegan basically straddles him as he fights the heavier weight, but being confined to the ground on his stomach, there’s not much he can do to stop it.  
“Finnegan, please don’t.” Francis nearly screeches at the man.

Jim feels his breathing coming quicker until it comes to a complete stop when an arm slides across his throat, cutting off his air supply.  
“Finnegan you’re drunk! Stop!” Francis wails, but despite the fervor in his voice, he doesn’t do anything to help his blond roommate.

Jim makes one last attempt to roll Finnegan off, but it’s futile. His lungs begin to scream for oxygen and the burning in his chest starts to rise. Blackness creeps into the edges of his vision and right before he’s on the verge of falling into the abyss of darkness, there’s a single familiar voice that penetrates his ears.

“Stop!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fiction that has 36 chapters on FanFiction, but I decided to reedit it and post it here.
> 
> The title is based on Jaymes Young I'll Be Good, which is an amazing song which I 100% suggest you listen to it.
> 
> So this is my first post, and hopefully it won't be my last. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Live Long and Prosper.


	2. Just the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim gets Leonard to go out drinking with him, Leonard is having some serious doubts.

If Leonard McCoy wouldn’t have gotten lost that day, desperately trying to look casual and not utterly lost, he wouldn’t have seen that cocky son of a bitch getting choked out on the floor. And he certainly wouldn’t have saved him. But since he did get lost, and is now currently passing by the Roddenberry dorm, full of the immature freshman of the campus, he does see the fight, and he sees Kirk losing it.

A quite large man is on top of the blond, his left arm slicing off the air supply in his trachea. If that man keeps that up, Kirk will be a dead man for sure. The brain can only last four to six minutes without oxygen, and that’s after the victim passes out. By the looks of it, Kirk’s already falling unconscious, meaning he’s been held there for at least eight seconds.

With a groan, Leonard picks up into sprint, “Stop!” He cries out, hands high above his head to get their attention.  
One man, off to the side takes off immediately and runs inside the dorm, but the man on Kirk remains stationary, keeping the blond in the hold, “Get off of him, you bastard!” Leonard growls, landing a kick into the man’s side.

The brunette man tumbles over, but quickly gathers to his feet and merely chuckles when he sees it’s just him. Leonard can feel his stomach twist as he hears Kirk’s pitiful gasps of breath as the life surges back into him. The man before him charges. Eyes wide, Leonard dodges and manages a jab into the man’s ribs, causing him to stumble.

Leonard smells it now, the man’s completely drunk. Rolling his eyes, Leonard turns to finish him off with a punch to the head, but the man gets to him first with a fist into his gut. He grunts heavily and almost keels over, but someone steadies him and shoves him out of the way.

“Hey!” He splutters through his coughs, but to his astonishment it’s Kirk.

The blond is staggering on his feet, but he manages to land a blow squarely onto the man’s jaw, sending him onto the ground in a heap of limbs and blood. Kirk then turns and offers Leonard a grin before collapsing to his hands and knees, still wheezing for breath, “Kirk, are you alright?” Leonard asks, scrambling to the blond’s side to support him before his head meets the hard ground.

All Leonard gets is a nod before Kirk begins to shrug his hands off. Baffled, Leonard huffs incredulously, “Kirk you nearly lost it there, let me help you. I can take you to medical.” Almost limp underneath his grasp, Kirk becomes instantly rigid at the mention of ‘medical’, though Leonard doesn’t quite know why, “Yeah that sounds good. Let me walk you over.” Leonard firmly agrees with himself, but Kirk shakes his head, “You owe me Bones.”

He snorts, “The name’s Leonard, and yeah, it’ll be fulfilled by walking your sorry ass to medical.” The blond shakes his head once more, “I want a drink.” Kirk informs him with a raspy voice and Leonard can’t help but laugh at the man, “In your dreams.”

Kirk makes moan of complaint with the back of his throat and stares deeply into his eyes and Leonard finds himself unable to say no to those gleaming azure eyes. He sighs, recollecting his thoughts, “Fine, one drink. That’s all.”

The smile Kirk gives him is uplifting, “Yeah c’mon, let’s go before I realize how stupid this is.” Leonard grumbles in his southern drawl that only causes the blond’s dumb smirk to become bigger.

He then proceeds to hook and an arm around Kirk’s waist and sling the kid’s other arm across his shoulders before standing completely up. The blond wobbles slightly, and his breath catches in the back of his throat, but Leonard waits a moment for Kirk to gain his bearings as he snatches the blond’s jacket off the ground.

“We good?” He inquires, taking a swift glance at the blond, “Did you just check me out?” Kirk implores with a lopsided grin. Leonard huffs, “Y’know I could just dump you in the streets and forget about you.”

“Ahh, there’s your southern charm. Knew you had it in you.” Kirk smiles stupidly to himself, causing Leonard to roll his eyes, “C’mon, let’s get that drink before I kill myself.” Leonard mutters, helping the blond get the jacket on before leaving the presence of the Roddenberry dorm.

They trudge along the path in silence, the only sound filling their ears are the falls of their feet against the pavement and Kirk’s heavy exasperated breathing. All it takes for Leonard is one look to see that the kid’s throat is quite swollen in a purple mess. Though Kirk’s very adamant about not going to the hospital, for reasons beyond Leonard’s understanding.

“Thanks.” Kirk says suddenly, breaking the quiet with his hoarse voice, “No problem Kirk.” Leonard replies casually with a shrug and he feels the kid’s bright blue eyes staring at him, “Call me Jim.”

Leonard turns to look at him, “Okay, Jim, I’m Leonard.”

Kirk snorts, though it sounds quite deranged with his bruised windpipe, “Alright Bones.”

“Goddamn it.” Leonard grumbles and continues to pull Kirk along the path, leading them outside the campus and onto the streets.

Despite the fact Leonard seems quite lost walking along the cement paths, Kirk seems to know his way around. By now, the blond is walking on his own, but he holds a hand to his ribs and winces if he turns the wrong way.

“So, what is this place exactly?” Leonard implores, gazing about the small town, “Abrams Town. Should have a bar around here somewhere.” Kirk responds, taking gulps of air between words, “You sure you’re up for this? I can still take you to a hospital.”

Kirk shakes his head, “No, I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are.” Leonard grumbles under his breath, but nonetheless keeps walking alongside the idiot.

It only takes a few minutes for Kirk to spot a bar and bring them inside. But Leonard’s about to learn, the kid is literally a trouble magnet. They step inside and welcome the smells of alcohol with a mixture of sweaty men. Just typical. Jim simply makes his way to the front and sits down on one of the stools, spinning around to gesture Leonard over. Leonard sighs through his nostrils before coming beside the blond, climbing up onto one of the stools as well.

“You’re buying.” Kirk informs him with a shit-eating grin, “Like hell I am. I just saved your ass; you can buy your own drink.” Leonard replies sharply, causing the immature blond to frown, “You’re no fun.”

Leonard shakes his head disapprovingly, “You call getting choked back there fun?” Kirk takes a moment to respond, it isn’t a long moment but long enough to allow Leonard to realize there’s something off with the kid. “No, that wasn’t fun.” Kirk tells him, but there’s a twitch of a smile in his lips that alarms Leonard.

The bartender comes over, “What can I get you guys?”

“Two beers.” Kirk says greedily, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, the bartender just nods and leaves to get their drinks.

“Why were you fighting in the first place?” Leonard asks and the blond stiffens slightly, “Uhh, I went out and bought a cheeseburger. And this guy, Finnegan, wanted a bite when I came back. I said no.” Kirk explains with a laugh.

“Is Finnegan your roommate?” He wonders, but Kirk shakes his head, “No, no. My roommate is Francis Donovan. He’s a bitch.” Leonard nods and once more Kirk stares deeply into him with those penetrating blue eyes, “Who’s your roommate?” The blond questions as the bartender delivers their drinks. Leonard says a quick thanks before responding, “I don’t have one. Guess he chickened out last second.”

Kirk hums and slides Leonard’s drink over to him. Leonard nods and takes a sip of the beer. The amber liquid swirls down his throat, warming his insides oddly as it settles within him. When he looks back over at Kirk, the blond is gazing off distantly.

“Taking any sweet classes?” Leonard says, trying to start a conversation, “Uhh, none worth mentioning.” Kirk mutters, switching his eyes from his glass to a girl across the bar, “You a doctor or something?” The blond’s guess startles Leonard, “Yeah, how’d you know?”

The blond hums gently, “Had a feeling.”

“Alright it’s my turn. Let me guess, you’re a rich cocky bastard whose daddy kicked you out, but you still think you’re better than everyone else. Am I close?” Kirk chuckles, “Nailed it.” But the blond’s weak smile that barely manages to climb onto his lips says otherwise.

“Hey Bones, hold my drink will ya? There’s a girl, about a seven across the bar. Problem is once you get close, seven’s can actually turn into sixes, so I gotta go see if she’s a true seven or not.” The blond explains, rising from his seat and giving the bewildered brunette a wink.

“Who you looking at Jim? And it’s Leonard.” He asks, catching Kirk by the shoulder before he can escape arm’s reach, “The green Orion over there.” The blond alleges and Leonard follows his gaze, finding the thick but slender green woman across the bar, with rich curly auburn hair that surely sets ablaze in the glowing sunlight.

“Jim, she’s not seven, definitely a nine.” Leonard corrects him, but Kirk gives him a snarky huff, “I’ve seen better Bones.” The blond is then off and away, sliding past several people to get to his one destination.

Leonard just watches with a sigh, wondering why he’s even here in the first place. Unmistakably this Kirk person isn’t someone he should be hanging around, but something about the kid is off, there’s more to him then whatever this shit he’s getting. The kid’s hiding something, and he wants to know what.

He takes sip from his drink, glancing back over at Kirk, who’s chatting away with the pretty woman, but out of the corner of his eye he catches two men brushing through, eyes locked on Kirk. Shit, this might turn ugly.

The Orion is now trying to shoo Kirk away, but the blond is truly a blond and doesn’t get the hint until one of the men place a large hand on his shoulder. The dread that washes over the blond’s face is only brief until a grin replaces it as he turns to face the men. Leonard can just feel a rock drop into his stomach, here it comes.

Groaning to himself, Leonard heaves himself off the stool and begins to make his way over to Kirk, before the blond gets the snot beaten out of him. But he is truly too late. By the time he gets over, Kirk has already put one guy into a table and is getting punched repeatedly into the gut as the second man pins him against the wall. 

“Jim!” He shouts as he pulls the second guy off the blond.

But the aggressor grabs him by his shirt and hoists him from the ground, “You know that bitch?” the man growls, glaring into Leonard’s eyes.

Leonard looks over at Kirk within that moment; the blond has slumped over, eyes blinking through the thick sticky blood now running down his face, “Yeah, that’s my bitch. So hands off of him.”

Despite the blond’s blurred vision, he’s able to get up and take the guy out before he lands a blow at Leonard’s face. Leonard stumbles back, shocked as the blond hurtles himself at the man, managing to break a beer bottle over his head before the man lands too many blows to his once pretty face. But now the man that had gotten thrown into the table is recovering and reaching out to grab Kirk by his hair. Kirk doesn’t notice him until he’s yanked harshly down to the ground by his golden hair.

The blond yelps and kicks the man into the gut before he has a chance to harm him further. Leonard shakes himself from his daze and lands the finishing blow with a chair to the man’s back.

“Get out!” The bartender’s voice is now made known once the noise has settled.

“C’mon Jim.” Leonard commands, picking him up off the floor and dragging him out of the bar, “We got em Bones.” Kirk laughs, patting him on the back, “Shit kid. What’s wrong with you?” He wonders aloud, going through the now gathered crowd of people, one of those being the pretty Orion girl who just stares after them thoughtfully.

Leonard brings him outside and over to the curb. “I’m fine Bones, really.” Kirk waves him off, but he nonetheless forces the kid to sit down, “Hold still moron.” Leonard growls, snatching Kirk by his chin and tilting it around to get a better angle on his quickly swelling face, “You said I was your bitch.” Kirk says, but he’s not laughing, his face has hardened into something of seriousness. 

“I was caught in the heat of the moment.” Leonard explains apologetically, using his own sleeve to help get the blood off Kirk’s face, “No-no its fine. I thought it was funny actually.”

He smiles and shakes his head, “C’mon, let me take you to a hospital.” Leonard tells him, aiding him to his feet, “No it’s fine. Just help me get back to the Roddenberry dorm. That’s where my room’s at.”

“My dorm is closer; let me take you there first. You can’t go walking around looking like this, you’d get in trouble.” He informs the blond, beginning the long walk back to the campus with him supporting at least a third of Kirk’s weight. “Okay,” Kirk agrees, not finding the strength within himself to argue any further, as long as he’s not going to medical he’s fine with it.

“Let’s get a drink tomorrow.” Kirk decides and Leonard looks at him incredulously, “Not after today’s show. They’d never let us back in.”  
“Hmm, yes I know, but there are other bars.” Kirk replies hopefully, but he just shakes his head, “This was a onetime deal kid. Classes start tomorrow and I don’t have time to be farting around with the likes of you.”

Kirk almost looks hurt, mentally speaking that is, “Trust me Bones, you’ll have fun.”

“I have a feeling that what you call fun and I call fun, aren’t the same thing.” Leonard says, grunting when Kirk nearly topples over with a groan, “Shit kid, how’s your ribs?” He gasps as Kirk becomes slightly heavier than before, “Doing fine. And don’t change the subject. We’re going out for a drink tomorrow.”

“It’s not happening kid. I have classes to pass.”

Kirk sighs and they continue the rest of their journey in silence, until they reach Leonard’s dorm, “You’re a freshman, how come you’re not staying in the Roddenberry dorm?” Kirk asks, leaning against the wall as Leonard gets the door open, “I took medical classes at the University of Mississippi, already got my PhD kid, so they gave me a fancy room in the Barrett dorm.”

“PhD, wow.” Kirk grumbles and lets Leonard guide him inside, his ribs still sending jolts of pain through his system, “I’m a fast learner.” Leonard mumbles, “Must be smart than.” Kirk compliments with a grin.

Leonard just nods and brings Kirk into elevator beside him, selecting the third floor and watching as the doors slide shut and they begin to go up. Kirk looks a bit tipsy beside him, perhaps a concussion? Though he hasn’t displayed many signs of having one.

The elevator dings when it reaches the appropriate floor, and the metallic doors slide open, “C’mon kid.” Leonard mutters, snatching Kirk with an arm around his back while his other hand searches for his ID card.

“Room three eighty-nine e huh?” Kirk huffs, “Uh-huh.” Leonard hums as he opens the door, hauling Kirk inside before shutting it with swish of his hand over the sensor. “Nice place, it’s cozy.” The blond comments, allowing Leonard to sit him down on the couch before scurry away to the kitchen, “Cozy it may be, but you’re getting blood on my carpet.” Leonard points out, coming back into sight with a bag of ice and a wet rag.

“Alright, off with the shirt, lemme take a look before I send you on your way.” Leonard informs him and waits patiently as Kirk hesitantly peels off his red jacket and proceeds to grab the hems of his shirt, but the blond pauses, looking conflicted. “C’mon, I don’t have all night, some people like their sleep.” He prompts and Kirk nods slowly before pulling off his shirt, to reveal a rippling body.

Leonard swallows from the mixed emotions he receives while examining Kirk’s body. And damn, does the boy have a pair of abs, but of course, that doesn’t stop Leonard from noticing the light pink scars littering his body amongst the purplish-blue bruises along his ribs. Kirk only offers him a pained expression, one of which Leonard assumes wasn’t supposed to be there, he supposes the blond was going to smile at him but couldn’t manage it through the anguish.

So instead, Leonard gives him a reassuring smirk; of course he isn’t going to ask, it’s none of his business. Kirk catches the look and becomes noticeably at ease when Leonard begins to poke and prod at him, but there’s still a hint of alertness, the stiffness whenever Leonard’s hand grazes over a scar or comes close to his neck.

“Here, lay down for me, it’ll be easier that way.” Leonard tells him and Kirk simply nods and complies, lying rather still as he places a pillow beneath his head. Using the rag, Leonard wipes away the blood clearly streaming from his nostrils and the cuts on his head, “Y’know it’d help if you would just let me take you to a hospital.” Leonard begins, making Kirk snort, “That’s not gonna happen Bones.”

“We’re in my room, it’s Leonard. For god’s sake man.” Leonard sighs; placing the ice on Kirk’s bruised ribs, causing a groan to emit from the blond’s throat.

“Lemme grab some water.” Leonard then rises from his crouch beside Kirk and heads off into the kitchen, filling a glass full of water before returning to a drowsy blond. “Here, drink this.” He orders, watching as Kirk struggles to sit up, “Thanks.” The blond barely whispers, taking the cup and slowly swallowing it down.

“Better?” Leonard says, snatching the cup and putting on the side table, Kirk just nods, eyes drooping. “Hungry much?” He asks, heading once more for the kitchen, “Already ate.” Kirk replies, his voice edging with exhaustion and Leonard can’t blame the kid, he got beat up twice today. “I’m pretty sure the other guy ate it for you.” Leonard recalls, crossing his arms and daring a glance over at Kirk, but the back of the couch obscures his vision of the kid.

Kirk just hums before breathing out a sigh. When Leonard returns minutes later with a bowl of oatmeal, the kid is out like a light, mouth parted as soft snores escape. Leonard smiles and shakes his head, sitting down on the ground beside the man. He turns on the TV and scrolls through the channels, settling on the news section, though he finds himself a bit lost.

Why has he taken in this complete stranger? Yes, they’ve bonded through the fact that he spewed bodily fluids over the man’s lap, but why Jim Kirk? The devilish blond attracts any sort of trouble possible and most obviously has a death sentence waiting in his future, so why is Leonard helping him? That’s a question Leonard cannot answer, simply because he’s not willing to take into account his own past decisions and experiences.

So instead of delving into the answer, Leonard shifts his focus to the TV, allowing the news report to suck him away from reality. Well, until his spoon makes a clank sound alerting him of the fact that he’s managed to zone out for the entirety of him eating his oatmeal.

He groans, slightly frustrated at himself for wasting time, when he could’ve been getting ready for his classes tomorrow. This then brings him to his sudden realization that Kirk is still sleeping on his couch half naked. What is he getting himself into? 

Leonard glances at the blond, seeing his contorted face as he begins to moan in his sleep. He sighs to himself and gathers to his feet, dumping his dishes into the kitchen sink. Worn, Leonard sits himself at the table, where he left his discarded PADD this morning after his meeting with his counselor. Entering in his password, Leonard pulls up his classes, scanning over them briefly. He has Starfleet Medicine at seven am, and Organic Chemistry at two after lunch. Hopefully those classes won’t be too hard, though since he’s already attended Mississippi University that should make things easier on him.

Exhaling heavily, Leonard lets his head slump into the palm of his hand, with his elbow propped up against the surface of the table. He continues swiping through, accessing the location of his classes so he doesn’t get lost tomorrow.

As he starts to let his eyes fall, there’s a sudden cry of pain, followed by one name which he’s learning to respond to, “…Bones?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys here's chapter two! I was planning on getting it in yesterday but I got caught up in some stuff. So I guess it's better late than never am I right? Anyways I hope you guys have enjoyed it so far, I promise it gets better.
> 
> Live Long and Prosper.


	3. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has an eventful first day of school.

Jim wakes with jolt, finding that his world is about to spin off its hinges. Slightly panicked, the blond gets to his feet, but he ends up convulsing in pain, sending him onto his hands and knees. He lets a cry of agony part from his lips before calling for the first name that comes to mind, “…Bones?” He’s barely able to let the name fall from his mouth due to his abnormally swollen throat.

“Shit, Jim you okay?” McCoy’s already rounding the corner to come by his side, guiding him into a sitting position and quickly glancing him over, brain assessing the damage.  
Jim nods, “Sorry about scaring you. I just didn’t expect it to hurt that much.”

McCoy shakes his head at him disapprovingly, “You shouldn’t be up on your feet, you need to be in a hospital.” 

“No-no, its fine. I just need a minute and I’ll be on my way. I gotta get back to my dorm.” Jim tells the southerner, yanking his discarded shirt over his head and reaching for his jacket when McCoy stops him, “Jim you gotta go to medical. You could have a broken rib for god’s sake.”

“For the last time, I’m not going.” Jim nearly growls, shoving McCoy’s outstretched hand away and proceeds to slip his red jacket on. 

McCoy steps away, clearly angered by his stubbornness, but nonetheless doesn’t stop him when he stands to his feet, “Fine, but I suggest no physical activity tomorrow. If your ribs aren’t broken, they sure as hell are fractured.”

The blond nods slowly, “Don’t worry Bones, I’ll be fine.” He replies, patting the man on the shoulder with cunning grin, “Alright, but at least let me walk you over to your dorms.” 

McCoy advises him, arms crossed from where he stands silently judging the man before him, “You’re such a gentleman Bones.” Jim chuckles and heads for the door, but before he opens it, he beckons the southerner over, of course he wants McCoy to walk him back, he’s not sure if he’d make it if he doesn’t.

“Thought so kid.” McCoy grumbles, opening the door for him and watching as the blond hobbles out, one hand clutching at what he claims are ‘bruised’ ribs while the other grazes along the interior walls.

“You’re one stubborn bastard.” McCoy tells him, once they’ve both made it inside the elevator, “I try.” He grunts, pushing the button for the bottom floor leaving the man beside him to shake his head.

Once the elevator dings, McCoy hooks his arm around Jim and guides him out. Much to Jim’s annoyance, to actually walk, he has to grip onto the man for dear life, finding the pain to surge through his body, making him shaky at the knees, “This was a terrible idea.” The southerner complains, helping Jim walk down the pavement path. “Name one good idea I’ve had so far.” Jim points out with a wince, feeling his insides begin to burn with the constant movement.

They walk off the main path, heading down a steep hill, but all it takes is one misstep to send both Jim and McCoy to the ground, “Goddamn it kid.” Jim hears McCoy mutter. Jim just grunts and watches McCoy brush the dirt off himself as he stands. 

“Hey! Are you guys okay?” A voice suddenly rings out from behind them. “Who the hell is that?” Jim groans, sitting upright with a cough, “I have no idea but if it’s security we’re screwed.”

“Need some help?” The voice continues and they finally make the outline of the figure through the darkness, and luckily he as well is a wearing a red uniform. McCoy lets out a relieved sigh, “Yes, some help would be much obliged.”

“Well, I’m Hikaru Sulu, and you might be?” The thin Asian man holds out a hand to shake, “Leonard McCoy.” The southerner greets back, meeting the hand solidly, “His name’s Bones.” Jim corrects, causing Sulu to be confused and McCoy to grouse, “And that there is Jim.”

“So, what shall I be helping you with exactly?” Sulu inquires, glancing around expecting to find it obvious, “This here moron decided to get into two fights today, and I need to get him back to his dorm.” McCoy explains, all the while Jim sits pouting as he waits.

Sulu nods, “Why not take him to Medbay? They have one on campus y’know.”

“Good luck getting him inside of one. He’s too damn stubborn.” McCoy replies, scooping Jim from the grass and stabilizing him back on his feet, with Sulu going to the opposite side to aid him in walking, “So what dorm are we going to exactly?”

“Roddenberry.” Jim informs him, though his voice has grown gruff and scratchy.

Sulu nods excitedly, “Hey that’s my dorms. You guys freshmen too?”

“Yeah.” McCoy responds as they haul Jim down the hill and onto the cement path back to the dorms, “You guys roommates?”

Jim chuckles, “No, I’m rooming with Francis Donovan while he gets a fancy room in the Barrett dorm all by himself.”

Sulu hums in thought, “That’s nice. I have some fourteen-year-old kid in my room.”

“Fourteen?” McCoy bursts, not able to hold back a few laughs, “You’re kidding me, right?”

“I’m being serious; he’s some type of child prodigy. The instructors play a bit of favoritism getting him in here.” Sulu explains with a sigh, “What’s his name?” Jim implores.

“Pavel Chekov. He’s a skinny redheaded Russian kid, can’t miss him.” Sulu laughs and Jim nods, “I’ll look for him tomorrow.” 

McCoy leads the group up the final steps to the dorm, pausing right outside the door, “Alright, Mister Sulu, you think you can take Jim to his room, I can’t stay out too late, we do have a curfew you know.”

“Oh yeah, sure thing, Leonard. I can handle it from here.” Sulu says and McCoy nods, “Thanks, and Jim, don’t do anything stupid.” McCoy calls out as he strolls away into the night air.

“I’ll try not to Bones!” Jim shouts after him as Sulu guides him inside, “So what floor are we going to?” The dark headed Asian inquires, squeezing into the elevator, with Jim leaning heavily upon him, “Floor two.”

“Alright. My floor is the third, first door to your right.” The man tells him, Jim just nods, “I’ll make sure I swing by sometime then.”

The elevator than makes the familiar ding and the doors slide away, “I think I can handle it from here, thanks. Sulu, right?”

Sulu nods, “Yeah, its Sulu, and I’ll see ya later Jim!” 

Jim smiles graciously and gives a little wave to Sulu as the doors slide shut, before he promptly turns to find his door. He goes to pull out an ID card, but then remembers, he doesn’t have it on him. Rolling his eyes, Jim knocks on the door, until Francis opens it for him.

“Thanks.” Jim grunts, stepping inside and Francis just nods before scurrying away into his own room.

The blond heaves a sigh and limps into his room after closing the door and making sure it’s locked. Once in the safety of his own quarters, he kicks off his boots and strips down to his boxers and sets an alarm for four-twenty am, since he has hand to hand combat training at five am. Though he supposes there won’t be very many people, not many Academy students are willing to take the earliest classes, but Jim accepts it. He considers himself a morning person, sometimes that is. 

Making his way over leisurely, he crumples into the bed, despite the firm mattress and rough blankets the bed itself is soothing to his throbbing body. Not bothering with a shower, which he’s long overdue for, Jim falls into a light slumber.

When the alarm goes off at its designated time, four-twenty am, Jim wants to kill himself and it’s only August 20th, the first day of school. All night Jim slept curled up in a tight ball, arms wrapped protectively around his injured ribs, but now, as he surges to the waking world, he regrets his decision to sleep like that. Aching and stiff, Jim unravels himself and turns the alarm off with a rather limp arm.

He forces a breath into his body and within that instant his ribs flare in white hot pain that momentarily blinds him. Jim’s breathing stutters, but through gripping onto his mattress for dear life, he’s able to compose himself.

Swallowing the built up saliva, Jim turns his body around and plants his feet sturdily onto the ground, feeling a shudder run up him. He then proceeds to feel uncharacteristically cold and decides on a nice warm shower to loosen his muscles. Agreeing with himself, Jim gets up and stumbles his way over, gathering his clothes as he makes for the bathroom outside of his room.

It takes several minutes of pained walking, and he’s sure that his grunts and groans broke the tranquility of the room, to reach the bathroom. He turns on the light, which he immediately regrets as the brightness causes him to squint and catch the reflection of his horrid face in the mirror. The sight of his own face causes him to pause and lean over the counter to get a better look.

He’s awfully ragged and pale; his nose is swollen into a purple mess. His lower lip is busted and looking quite fat. Jim switches his gaze up, meeting his own gleaming sapphire eyes, despite the sunken appearance they hold, the same fiery determination glows within them. Satisfied, Jim strips himself of his boxers and runs the shower, keeping one hand across his abdomen. He doesn’t even want to look there.

Once at the proper, blazing hot, temperature Jim steps within the waters warm embrace, letting the liquid run down and sear into his bare skin. He takes a calming breath, feeling the dirt and grime wash away from the intensity of the heat. Sighing, Jim scrubs his hair underneath the showerhead’s spray, he would’ve used some shampoo, but since he doesn’t have any of his own and he’s too afraid to use Francis’, he doesn’t.

When he’s as clean as he’s going to get, the blond shuts the water off and grabs the first towel he sees, though he supposes they’re provided with towels, but he could be wrong. Francis Donovan may be one pissed man when he comes back. Completely dry, Jim pulls on his trousers and slips on the red uniform, making a mental note to get more clothes. Surely the Starfleet Academy provides them with more?

Jim groans as he yanks on his jacket, finding that his ribs protest the movement fiercely. He rolls his eyes, not quite sure if he’s disgusted at the pain he’s in or the fact he got beat up twice yesterday. 

The blond makes his way out of the bathroom, quickly snatching his ID card, wallet, and PADD from his dorm room before leaving. He doesn’t need to get locked out of his room again. Jim leaves the room with a grin; the shower was actually refreshing and he supposes that’s just the thing he needed to start his day.

Taking the elevator, it’s a lonesome ride down and as he steps out into the early morning air, he realizes just how dormant the campus is, and he thought the campus looked deserted yesterday, now it definitely does. Plastering on that Jim Kirk smile, he makes his way over to the main building, though when he pulls up his PADD, he realizes that the hand to hand class is held in the gym, which isn’t part of the main facility, but is rather close to the Barrett dorm, which is also close to the campus Medbay. But he figures the coincidence of the hospital and the gym being close together isn’t an accident.

Jim groans when he picks up the pace, climbing up the hill he’d tripped on last night, and back onto the familiar path towards McCoy’s dorm. More than likely the southern man is still snoring away, lucky. The blond reaches the gym building in a timely fashion, actually he’s five minutes early. He steps inside and glances around, finding several other students bustling outside the gym doors, obviously awaiting the arrival of their absent professor.

He scoots himself into the crowd, quickly glancing over their faces to see if he recognizes any of them, and unfortunately he does. Jake Finnegan is amongst the crowd, chatting away with some fellow students. Jim tenses, feeling his hands curl into fists. Maybe the two of them should spar, he’d love a rematch.

“Move back, move back. I have to unlock the doors.” A voice rings out, and the cadets quiet down and everybody finds their attention drawn to the source.

The source is a stocky man, holding the height about just under an inch of six feet, though despite his lack of height, the man has arms that look like they could rip one’s head off with a single yank. His face is clean shaven, with gray hair that has been buzz cut.

Their professor strolls to the door with much confidence, and with the wave of his hand over the sensor the doors open, allowing his students to enter before him. Jim gives his instructor a courteous nod while passing by; hoping to be on good terms with the man, for this will more than likely be one of his favorite classes.

“Alright, hello everybody, my name is Professor Nimoy. I will be your instructor for the course of this year. For today, you will be taught the procedures, ins and outs, and safety protocols of using any equipment or performing any activity. If you can sit still through this, then I reassure you, you can sit through anything.” Professor Nimoy introduces himself, closing the doors and guiding the students to the main arena, with padded floors and benches to the sides.

“This here is the main gym. It’s where we’ll be doing most of your training. Over there to the left, is the men’s locker room, and to the right is the women’s. Oh, and don’t let me forget-every single of you is provided with the appropriate gym clothes and bag, which when I see you next class, you should be wearing.” Nimoy continues, pulling out a hover crate with all their bags, “Okay, I promise I’m not trying to butcher your name, I just can’t pronounce anything, if I did; I’d be teaching an English class.”

There are a few chuckles and smiles amongst the crowd, but mostly it’s quiet, though Jim can’t blame them, it’s five in the morning for crying out loud.

“Alright, let’s see what we got here…Vanessa Rexroat? Did I say that right?” Nimoy calls out and a slender woman steps from the group, long wavy brunette hair, with brown eyes richer than the earth’s soil, “Yes sir.” Rexroat replies, taking the gym bag from his grasp before vanishing back within the flock of students. 

Nimoy nods and grabs the next bag, “Uhh, Jake Finnegan?”

Finnegan slithers through the people and grabs his bag, giving a nod to the professor before stepping away, “Okay, I’m going to mess this one up, Peter M-Med-ved?”

A tall man with square shoulders appears, “Its Medved sir.”

“Medved, I’ll try to remember that.” Nimoy says, handing the man his bag before snatching the next one.

The routine of calling names continues and it’s not until every student, around twenty or so, have their bags before Jim’s name is called, him being the last one.

“James Kirk?” Nimoy announces and whispers begin to break out.

Could it possibly be James Kirk, like George Kirk’s son?

Of course Jim knew the answer, but he was never one to brag about his father, actually the indignation he holds for the man is remarkably high, despite the fact that it’s not even his fault he was absent.

Nervously swallowing, Jim brushes through the throng of people and to the front, feeling everyone’s eyes trace out every movement he makes, following with keen gazes, as if he slips up now they can disgrace his name. When he gets to the front, Nimoy has a smirk on his face, “Your George’s kid huh?” The instructor prompts and Jim can feel the pressure building up on his shoulders, and in the crowd, he can see Finnegan shooting daggers at him.

Jim nods slowly, “Yeah, that’s me.” He confirms rather slowly and Nimoy smiles, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Your father was good man, I’m sure he’d be proud of you.” He nods again, it’s all he can manage as he snatches the bag and snakes back into the crowd, but he finds that once before he could disappear within the mass, now he can’t. There’s always someone looking at him with steely eyes.

Through the rest of Professor’s Nimoy’s speech, Jim’s head hangs rather low, gaze not really leaving the floor unless whenever Nimoy is demonstrating any type of safety procedure or protocol. But as much as Jim likes the man, the professor’s ignorant words echo through his mind. How could he possibly know that his father would be proud of him? Professor Nimoy doesn’t know him; he doesn’t know the demons that he has shut away. He can’t possibly know of the pain and suffering he has caused to other people and himself. There’s no way. So how the hell does Nimoy have the audacity to say that?

Jim finds himself so distraught over the words, that time slips through his fingers and soon enough, Professor Nimoy is dismissing the class. 

Sighing, Jim trails along, gripping his bag tightly and walking out into the morning air. But the moment he lets himself enjoy the early sky, with the singing birds and gleaming sun, a hand grabs his shirt and he’s thrust around to the back side of the building. Stumbling forward from the push, Jim drops his bag and PADD and turns to face the intruder, only to met by Finnegan and a scrawny man by the name of Tafari Arendse, a black African with a height around six foot three.

“Hey Jimmy, nice show you put on today.” Finnegan sneer, coming closer, “Ya’know I didn’t mean to, what can I say, people love me.” Jim replies joyously, giving Finnegan his trademark grin to infuriate him more.

Finnegan goes for the bait and lands a fist into Jim’s stomach, which the blond immediately crumbles to the ground, gasping for breath.

“Sore much Jimmy?”

“Jake, we should go, somebody might see us, its light outside.” Arendse points out, grabbing Finnegan by the shoulder to pull him away. Finnegan growls, brushing his friend’s hand off, “Alright, you win Taf, but tonight we come back to finish the little punk off.”

Jake Finnegan then continues to storm off, head held high, though Arendse lingers, “You alright little man?”

Jim looks up, meeting those dark brown eyes of Arendse, “I’m fine.” He manages with a groan as he stands up, “Okay, but I suggest you hide tonight. You do not want to fight Finnegan.” Arendse explains hurriedly as he backs away, “Trust me, I know.” Jim snaps and watches as the lanky African skips away to his next destination.

The blond gives a huff as he stoops over, grabbing his bag and PADD before continuing through the campus. It’s currently seven fifteen, which means he has forty-five minutes before his next class begins, which is Astrophysics. Should be interesting enough.

He’s making his slow journey back to his dorms when a loud yelp catches his attention. Perking up Jim finds the source of the noise and instantly recognizes the man, though he’s never met him before. Certainly the skinny Russian teenager, looking utterly lost can’t be anybody but Sulu’s roommate, Pavel Chekov. As Jim comes closer, the cause of the boy’s yelp is unknown, until he sees the broken PADD scattered in shards across the pavement floor.

“Oh, ouch there buddy. What happened?” Jim makes his presence known as he stands beside the redheaded boy, “I got up late this morning, so I was in a rush when I tripped and broke it.” The Russian boy explains rather sadly.

With shining eyes, Chekov’s face twists into further confusion as he realizes he’s talking to a stranger, “Do I know you?” He squeaks and Jim can’t help the smile that spreads on his lips, “I’m Jim, I met your roommate, Sulu last night.” He holds out a hand and the Russian kid meets it firmly, “Oh! I’m Pavel Chekov, and I kinda broke my PADD.”

“That appears to be so, what class are you heading to, maybe I can help you out.” Jim suggests, offering a friendly smile, which Chekov gives back, “Oh yes that would be most helpful.”

“Alright, what class?” Jim inquires, unlocking his PADD and pulling up a search bar, “Its Transporter Theory.” Chekov informs him and Jim glances over at him, eyebrow raised, “I heard you’re fourteen, is that true?”

Chekov nods, looking shy, “Its true sir.”

“Oh please, it’s just Jim. And damn kid, that’s impressive; remind me to take you out for a drink sometime.” Jim chuckles, grinning as he begins to steer Chekov away to his next class, but the Russian looks at him incredulously, “I am under the drinking age, I’d get into trouble.”

Jim pauses, looking over at him, “You make me feel old.”

“That’s what Hikaru said.” Chekov laughs, white teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

“Alright, let’s get you to that class.” Jim declares and they head off with Chekov holding onto his shattered PADD.

Chekov continues the incessant chatter, the kid moves at a rate of a hundred and ten miles per hour as he speaks; Jim can barely keep up with him between his burning ribs and glancing down at his PADD to make sure they’re going in the right direction. When Chekov does make it to his class, he’s nearly a half hour late, but still grateful.

“Thanks Jim!” Chekov whispers before heading inside the room, leaving the blond to shake his head and make a slow return to his dorm.

Once inside his room, he dumps his new bag in his room, finding Francis to be still sleeping. He sighs, snatching his PADD and glancing through to find his next class, Astrophysics. Before he leaves he double checks his pocket, making sure he has his ID card.

Jim leaves the room and goes for the elevator; he pushes the button and seconds later its sliding open, revealing Hikaru Sulu standing inside, “Hey Sulu.” He greets, stepping into the elevator to ride to the bottom floor with the man.

“Morning Jim, what class you heading to?” Sulu inquires, stretching a yawn which he can’t quite hide, “Uhh, Astrophysics.” Jim hums, rubbing his ribs unconsciously.  
“Really? That’s the class I’m going to now.” Sulu replies excitedly and Jim meets his grin, “I saw your boy Chekov not too long ago.”

“Told you he’s easy to spot.” Sulu says, getting off the elevator with the blond once they reach the bottom floor, “Yeah, the poor kid broke his PADD on the concrete. I had to take him over to his class but he’d already missed a portion of it.” Jim explains and Sulu cringes in sympathy, “That’s not a great way to start off your first day.”

Jim just nods knowingly, he’d already received his gift, it’s still hurting.

The two make it to their class on time, without a second to spare. They’re greeted by around thirty other students, all eager and young just like they are. Jim and Sulu sit side by side, both finding comfort in the familiarity of each other’s presence, despite the fact they’ve only known each other for less than a day.

It’s only a moment longer until their professor appears before them, elegant in her stance with white hair, she holds herself up proudly with a long gown about her figure. Clearing her throat, she takes her position at the podium, giving the microphone a quick tap before speaking.

“Hello students, I am Professor Rand and no you may not call me Rand or Randy. It shall be either Professor or Misses Rand; I will not accept any other title. This class is Astrophysics, so if you’re not taking this class, perhaps you got Astrosciences, which is right down the hall, and Astrophysics mixed up. If you aren’t in either or you’re outright scared of taking this class, go ahead and leave, they offer a creative writing class downstairs.” Misses Rand gives her introduction, and several students leave for purposes unknown to the class, but she also causes several laughs to rise from the bustle of students.

“Now I’m not going to sugar coat it, this class won’t be easy. It’ll be challenging, it’ll be time consuming, but if you put the time and effort into your work, you’ll pass. But for those of you who think you’re all that, you hotshots, you know who you are, trust me you’ll fail this class if you don’t study and put in the time. I can guarantee you that.” Professor Rand establishes bluntly, making Jim smirk.

He has a feeling Professor Rand isn’t going to like him very much, as for Sulu, the Asian man can’t be more energized for the class. The poor kid is bouncing in his seat from anticipation, which brings Jim to the fact that he’s older than most of the students here. The majority of them just got out of high school. Man, that makes him feel old.  
Exhaling rather loudly, Jim slouches in his chair, crosses his arms and mentally prepares himself for the next two hours of his life.

And boy does time pass slowly when one is bored. Jim probably spends more time staring at the clock above the Professor’s head than actually looking at her. That woman and her beady eyes frightens him, though he doesn’t know why, something about her is strange, like she’s holding onto something beyond her. A hatred that she’s carried within herself. A burden perhaps?

Though, Jim finds out exactly what when the bells rings and Professor Rand dismisses them. Relieved, Jim scrambles to his feet, clutching his new Astrophysics book close to his side along with his PADD.

Sulu’s about to start talking when Jim’s name is called out from across the room, causing the blond to raise an eyebrow and shrug, “I’ll catch up with you later for lunch or something.” Jim tells him and the man nods, “Alright, I’ll see if I can get Pavel to come too.” 

Jim smiles as he watches Sulu leave and then turns around to figure out just exactly why his name was shouted from across the room. But much to his disappointment it’s just Professor Rand, hands on hips as she waits for him to walk over.

“Yes ma’am?” Jim alleges, purposefully not using either title Professor Rand had addressed herself with.

The petite woman forces a smile onto her face, obviously strained, “You’re James Kirk?”

“Yes ma’am.” He repeats, dipping his head, not out of respect, but slight mockery, though he supposes it’s quite overkill since she doesn’t even notice.

Eyes narrowing, she glares at him, “Look, you may be a Kirk, but don’t expect special treatment from me, I treat everyone fairly in this class.”

“I don’t expect anything less ma’am.” Jim tells her and notices her cringe as he uses the word ‘ma’am’.

“Good, look I know your father was a hero and all, but in my class, just because a student’s daddy is a big deal, doesn’t mean they get to walk through my class with an easy A.” She continues sharply and Jim keeps nodding, “Of course ma’am, makes sense.”

“Please stop with the ‘ma’am’, it’s Professor or Misses Rand, weren’t you paying attention in class?” She implores and Jim smiles slyly, “Of course I was. Now if there’s not anything else, I’d like to go now.”

“Go ahead, but make sure you’re ready for next class James.” Professor Rand waves him off and he nods, “Of course, chapter one, section one correct?” He prompts, barely glancing over his shoulder to catch her response, “Yes, see you next week.”

Jim sighs once he makes it out of her class, despite it being only a little past ten in the morning, the blond finds himself drained of energy and utterly exhausted. With the motivation he has left, he exits the building, welcoming the summer heat against his back as he finds his way to the Roddenberry dorm.

Though, with a day such as this, why did he ever think he’d make it back without getting into more trouble? Because wherever James T. Kirk is, tribulation is bound to follow.  
He’s halfway to his dorms when he feels it. The sudden shift of bones within him, for a split second his vision goes black and a ringing bursts in his eardrums, though it all clears giving away to the pain in his ribs. Jim gasps, clutching his ribs, feeling all to sick. Then it only takes a second longer for Jim to throw up, in public for all to see, the crimson blood dripping from his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys so much for everything so far, I hope you stick around!
> 
> Live Long and Prosper.


End file.
